


The Next Steps

by adayofjoy



Series: After Effects [2]
Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Fluff, Love, M/M, Romance, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-21 01:52:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6033676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adayofjoy/pseuds/adayofjoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simon reflects on his new life with Baz after the final battle. He thinks of how far he's come and how much brighter his life is because of a certain gorgeous vampire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Next Steps

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone :) I thought I was just going to do the one story from Baz's perspective, but it seems as if I had to write one from Simon's perspective too (he's very persistent). As always, any comments would be very appreciated and if anyone just want to chat about Carry On then I'm more than happy to do that too :)

I still can’t believe that this is my life now. Every now and then I’ll wake up in a cold sweat, my heat hammering in my chest because I’ve convinced myself that everything important—Watford, Penny, my magic, Baz—was a dream. I expect to find myself lying in a cold, grey dorm, curled up in an industrial cot while ten other boys sleep fitfully around me. Those dreams are even worse than the ones where I replay the battle, the look on the Mage’s face when he died and the sound of Baz howling in agony. Those are bad enough. But what terrifies me the most are the dreams where I wake up and think that none of it ever happened at all. I suck air into my lungs until they ache and by this time Baz has woken up and wrapped his arms around me, whispering into my ear that he loves me and that I’m safe. 

Eighteen months have passed since the battle and it sometimes feels as if I’m right back where I started. But I know I’ve made progress, even if it doesn’t always feel like it. Things aren’t perfect, but I’ve got a lot of good things going for me. To be honest, Baz is pretty much number one on that list (aside from Penny, of course; she’s up there as well). 

I used to make lists in my head about things I wasn’t allowed to think about, things that would hollow out my chest with wanting if I dwelled on them too much. I’ve stopped doing this. My magickal psychiatrist said this was an unhealthy habit and suggested that I make lists in my head of things that make me feel safe and secure. I would think of scones and Christmas and Penny and our new apartment. But when I have those moments where I’m afraid that the world is burning around me, I always think of Baz. 

It’s ironic that the person I always considered to be my greatest bane is now the first thing I think of when I need comfort. Everything is different now. 

I truly did care about Agatha before, I think. Even if what I felt seemed like a watered down version of love. She’s beautiful and sweet and everything I’d been told to want. But Baz is different.

All I know is that what I felt for Agatha was comfortable and nice, but when Baz gives me one of his fleeting, brilliant grins I feel as if there’s a supernova pulsing inside my chest. Baz is all of the best parts of magic combined.

He’s still snarky and arrogant, but he’s also soft and kind and probably the biggest romantic on the planet. Last year, in the lead up to Valentine’s Day, he sent me a single long-stemmed red rose everyday for a month. He then took me out to dinner to some swanky restaurant that I’d never be able to afford on my student budget. 

It made me feel really shit about my homemade card and the framed picture of the two of us that I got him. I even got him one of those cheesy Valentine’s Day bears from the florist’s down the road. You know, the kind with the heart that says, “be mine” on it.  
Penny said she thought Baz was really chuffed with the bear though. And I’m pretty sure he still keeps the card I made him on his bedside table in his flat, even though Valentine’s was ages ago. 

I always get worked up about stuff like that. It messes with my head. Baz gives me everything I had never even thought to want and all I can give him in return is a shitty homemade card and a tacky bear.

I said this to him and he just rolled his eyes at me. He also seemed kind of affronted that I insulted the bear.

‘Snow,’ Baz said, ‘There was a time when the most I could hope to get from you was a punch in the face. You better fucking believe that I’m going to cherish this bear and anything else you give me.’ But his eyes softened when he said, ‘I love it, Simon. Truly. It’s more than I’d ever hoped for.’

Penny says she finds us nauseating, but I know she’s really happy for me. 

Penny and Baz are actually really good friends, even if Baz might hesitate to admit it. They talk about all the obscure, intellectual stuff that Penny was never able to talk to me about. You know, things like vowel shifts and the impact which 12th century time travel theory has had upon modern aviation. This week they’ve spent most nights on the couch debating the merits of different historical mages. Penny puts up a good argument for Francis Bacon, but Baz really seems to have a thing about Leonardo da Vinci (I think he’s got a bit of a crush—the nerd). 

I sometimes get involved in their conversations but mostly I just like to watch them interact with each other. It gives me a warm feeling inside my chest to watch Penny waving her arms in full debate mode as Baz eats curry while curled up on the couch, oblivious to the fact that his fangs are showing as he talks. Also, I don’t really feel smart enough to put in my two cents.

Baz always gets pissed off when I say this.

‘You can be a moron, Snow. But don’t think for one second that you aren’t intelligent.’

I think my issue is I stumble on words. They’re slippery in my mouth and never come out the way I plan. The first time I told Baz that I loved him I just blurted it out. He seemed so happy that he practically tackled me, but it wasn’t quite the eloquent, graceful declaration that I thought I’d be able to give him.

I did a few theatre courses at university; I thought it might help me with elocution, but they didn’t stick. I’m doing some psychology courses at the moment. I may not always be that perceptive at reading my own emotions (which is probably why I stayed together with Agatha for so long and why it took me forever to get with Baz), but I’m really enjoying the subject. I’m doing a bit of child developmental psychology, which is making me question how many of my issues stem from having such a fucked up childhood. 

But I really enjoy the statistics side of it. I’ve worked out that numbers stick in my head in a way that words never could. Baz even gets me to read over some of the more technical aspects of his economics papers for him.

I’m thinking I might keep doing psychology, but I’d like to do a few social work courses too. Penny reckons I should combine them and have a dual major. I’m just taking things as they come. I’ve spent most of my life being moulded and prepped so it’s nice to just take the time to make up my own mind about things.

Baz is really supportive. He’s always the first to hear about my marks and he buys me coffee to celebrate when I’ve finished an exam or a big assignment. But some of my favourite days are when we study together in the flat, curled up on the couch together while he types up a paper and I highlight pages in my textbooks. 

It’s been surprisingly easy, being together. We still have some really shit days, like when I don’t want to get out of bed or when Baz is stressed and snaps at me one too many times. But as time goes on those days become fewer and further between. We’re both quick to apologise if we’ve acted like pricks. 

Baz thinks we used up most of our aggression during our formative years, but I personally think we’ve just found a better way to vent our frustrations. 

Penny says she’s going to hex us we don’t stop snogging in front of her. I really don’t think we do it that much; we get up to much more behind closed doors. 

But I do constantly want to snog him. Baz is just so fucking hot. He’s so sexy with his smooth, pale skin and that dark hair of his that constantly falls in his eyes. I’m a least 90% sure that he doesn’t cut it because he knows I’ll always reach out to brush the hair from his face. He’s got these deep grey eyes that darken just before I’m about to kiss him. He’s so graceful and strong that sometimes I won’t be expecting it when he pins me up against the wall to kiss me, the cool weight of his body pressing against the length of mine. 

Something just clicks into place when we’re together. It feels right.

He looks like some kind of dark angel when we’re lying in bed, holding each other close (I know, I’m soft). I’m hopeless and he’s beautiful. The way he smiles at me, like he knows something I don’t, never fails to drive me crazy. I just can’t help but touch him. I would never tell him this; he’d never let me forget it. 

And I’m fairly certain he’s just as attracted to me (mainly because he tells me so constantly). If I hover above him as we kiss, just out of reach, I can get him to writhe and gasp in a way that sends me over the edge every time. I’ll never stop wanting him, I think every time he pulls me in for a quick kiss and I hold on for more. 

I’m hopelessly in love with him. And I never want it to end. 

 

I don’t know if Baz’s family will ever truly accept me, but I think they’re learning to tolerate me. Baz’s step-mum is always polite and his siblings seem to like me, even the brooding Mordelia who is more like Baz than he’s willing to admit. But I think the fact that his siblings are always excited to see me has less to do with my personality and more to do with the fact that I can toss them on my back and take them each for a flight around the back garden. 

Baz’s Aunt Fiona is still fucking terrifying, but I think she’s grudgingly starting to like me. 

Last time we met she said I must be smarter than I look if I could convince Baz to stay with me for as long as he has. I think Baz would have cut in if she hadn’t continued her observation by saying, ‘either that, or you’re a fantastic shag’. I still don’t know which one of us was more embarrassed.

I know his father had much higher hopes for Baz than me. I’m just a has-been, a freakish Normal with dragon’s wings and a tail (Baz gets really angry when I say that out loud, so I just think it). I reckon his father thinks that if Baz had to be gay, then he should have selected a member of the Old Families to be his boyfriend, someone of a higher calibre than me.

He still seems to have more of an issue with Baz being gay than being a vampire, but neither of these things should really matter. I think his father should be able to see that neither of these things detract from the fact and Baz is fucking brilliant and a wonderful son/person in general. 

But I try not to talk like this to Baz; I think it only upsets him. 

 

Baz calls me Simon almost exclusively when we’re alone. When he’s trying to hide his emotions he uses ‘Snow’, but when he wants me to know he’s serious about something he’ll always call me ‘Simon’. Whenever Baz says that he loves me, he always uses ‘Simon’. 

About six months into our relationship I started using pet names. I started off with ‘love’ because Baz had called me that a few times before (almost exclusively in life or death situations). I was nervous at first, thinking he’d just take the mickey out of me, but I think he kind of loves it. Sometimes, if he’s fed, Baz will turn pink all the way to the tips of his ears if I call him ‘darling’ in public. 

Occasionally, I think about Baz when he was young: scared and motherless and raised without any real sense of being unconditionally loved. This is partly why I use terms of endearment as frequently as possible. I may not be able to give Baz everything he deserves, but I’ll be damned if he goes one day without him realising how much I love him.

Also, he’s pretty adorable when he blushes.

 

Like I said, it’s really hard to believe that this is my life now. Baz and I take it a day at a time and I start to catalogue images and memories of him in my head. I hold onto them when I have my bad days, because I know that they will pass. Baz is what’s constant. What we’ve built together, this new life of mine, is constant. 

I’ve tried to make myself an authority on the inner workings of Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch (vampire and expert snogger). I’ve learned how he takes his tea (no milk or sugar, but with a squeeze of lemon), his favourite TV shows, how he likes to be kissed, the songs he likes to play on his violin, and all of the best ways to make him smile or blush. 

I’ve never been very studious, but if the subject interests me enough I can be very determined. And I’m willing to dedicate a lifetime to learning all that I can about Baz. 

I may not be the Chosen One anymore, but Baz chooses me everyday and I get to choose him. Somehow I think I get the better deal.


End file.
